Violet Glitters
by gustin puckerman
Summary: "I may be a lot of things, Yamada but I'm not one to back out from my words." He splutters the words out, almost too carefully. "I'm dancing. With you."


**My first Ray/Stella. Some reference to the original book, and some additional characters of my own. I have also expend the years, which means: this is their Senior Year. In another word, this event happened three years after what happened in the movie - which meant I have build their characters into what I think will fit. I hope as hell it will not be OOC, because I just _hate_ that, and hope you really do enjoy this.**

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**Violet Glitter  
**

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Shit!

One syllable. One _fucking_ syllable - and that's all it takes for him to express his whole emotions on the moment. Ray Beech moves through the crowd swiftly, dodging the swinging hips and swaying hands. The sound of someone's calling after him seems to get closer and Ray picks up his pace. Shit! Shit! Shittingly shitty shit! Just, damn _shit_.

Ray is screwed.

Joyce, his kid sister — that little psycho — have warned him, several times actually, in a menacing kind of way, how he only attracts people with IQ the size of a _squirrel_; exhibit one, Patty Norris, his obnoxious ex-girlfriend. Exhibit two, his _other_ exes. He, of course, denied that statement and stated how his sister was jealous of his popularity and should probably shut her mouth if she _still_ wanted a ride home considering Ray was her _only_ option of a ride home and knew she couldn't say "no" to that.

Joyce, although possessed a demonic way of thinking, was a smart girl and shut off the conversation right away.

But that doesn't mean what his kid sister said hadn't ring the truth. Now, getting away from Angel Powell, his 'supposedly' _harmless_ date for Senior Prom, he wishes Joyce were here to come up with some evil plan to get him away from this... this _obsessed_ animal. Out of so many dumbass shit he could have done, he agrees to take Powell to Prom - God, is he_ fucking_ screwed.

The clicking of her heels (out of many, goddammit) clangs against the gym's floor and thud into his ears. He could see it now; Powell's getting her pink-colored fingernails on him and her shrieking cackle — apparently, it's called a _laughter_ — booms into his ears, practically _summoning_ the Apocalypse or something, and having to stand the way she kisses with her lizard-like tongue - UGH. Shit. He needs a way to escape.

And _fast_.

"Yamada!" The words were out before he could stop them. The person in question whirls around, a frown etches on her face and Ray briefly sinks. Yamada could be worse than Powell, now that he's thinking of it, because that girl can literally scratch like a wild gorilla goin' wrong, and not to mention, _spit_. Obviously he doesn't need for _that_ to happen again the second time. But after realizing the real badass he truly is, Ray sweeps his feet towards the girl with all the confidence screaming in his being. "Can't see your date no where, shortstack. Finally found his senses in this rotten prom and ditch you when he realized he asked the Godzilla's daughter to prom?"

"Back off, Beech. Not tonight," she brushes past him and sits on one of the existing bleachers, quite far away from the whole crowd and scene.

Ray quickly shuffles himself to the petite young woman, noticing her deep violet dress and the ruffles that surround it. It envelops her small body, showing him her perfect small size and showing him the sight of her bare back and shoulders and —

_FOCUS_.

Damn, Yamada cleans up good for this.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened to that date of yours— what's his name again? Skittle? Skattle? Sk—"

"Skitter. His real name is Steve, but people call him Skitter. I don't know why, but they do." Yamada answers in a bored voice, waving her hand away as if to dismiss him so easily. Huh, like hell that'd work. "He's not here because his grandmother is dying and he has to leave last-minute. Now that you have done meddling into something that is _not_ your business, could you _please_ go away. And that's not a question, smartass — so you have no choice."

"Too bad I'm not so good in following orders, eh?"

Yamada squints her eyes up at him, glaring. "Look, you little Leprechaun, I don't have time for your—"

"Ray, baby!" Angel's screeching voice halts into the atmosphere, striking a nerve somewhere in Ray's body that makes him jump almost _two_ feet into the air. _Fuck_, he grits his teeth. Yamada has stopped babbling now, probably noticing the slight change in his demeanor as the voice strikes into their sense again, "Baby, where are you?!"

"Not to be nice to the satan's offspring here," Yamada starts, eyeing him up. He sends a brief glare when she continues, "But are you—"

"Students!" Mr Brenigan's voice booms against the microphone straight to the speaker, stopping the music and pausing the students' movements. The greasy old man smiles. Ray cringes and frowns — sure, he stays civil towards Mr Brenigan for his reputation's sake, but he loathes the dude just the same. Gosh, Ray still couldn't believe their country could let _ignorant idiots_ rule the school like this. "It's time for the night's last dance."

As if he had to announce that shit.

Ray had been dodging and running away from Powell the whole night to know it's time this Prom had to _quit_, goddammit. Students were getting horny and impatient - he could practically smell it in the air. Fuck hormones. He was supposed to have a threesome or _more_ tonight and ended up his luck being screwed over when Powell is literally _tracking_ his ass down and he's practically trapped into this situation with... _Yamada_.

"Oh damn." He mutters, spinning around and stares down at the miserable midget.

"Come on," he announces suddenly, slipping his hand against Yamada's just as Banjaree, the other member of the frickin' Lemon Heads, step onto the stage, her lips spread into a huge grin, having the honor of singing the last song of the night. Yamada looks shock but stands on her feet anyways.

"What the hell, Bee—"

"Just because dear _Skample_—"

"It's Skitter, you imbecile."

"Yeah, yeah. _Whatever_. What I meant was; this is the last dance of the night, short-thing. I can't let you off without you having a closure to your Senior Prom."

"And your 'genius' suggestion is for me to have the 'closure' with _you_?"

"Can't see _Skippy_ running back from his dying Nana to come and give you your last twirl, baby. Better me than nothing."

Yamada scoffs, "I prefer nothing, thank you very much. And don't call me _that_."

"Oh jeez, Yamada. For fuck's sake, it's _Senior Prom_. Can't we just forget that we're sworn enemies for the next three minutes or so. It won't actually kill you, you know? Being in my arms. _Jesus_."

"No, being in your arms can't kill me." She points out bitterly, "Sniffing your ridiculous cologne might."

"You're not making this easier on me, baby."

"I will seriously shout this second if you do not let go of me—"

"And what? Ruin your best friends' moment of _finally_ getting together? Goddamn, you know me pretty well I'm not following your Lemon Heads' updates, but I'm not fucking blind to know White and Gifford have been trying to get in one another's pants for _ages_ now—"

"Ew!" Yamada gushes, trying to pull her arms away from him. "That's disgusting."

"But so damn true!" Ray and patient hasn't been good friends ever since he was young, and adding Yamada into the situation would mean: all hells are breaking the fuck loose, shits are going to fly and Armageddon is approaching real quick. They both step into the dance floor and he turns around, "You're _not_ going to ruin this for them. You're a bitch, but you're not the enemy here."

"Yeah, _you_ are."

"Woman, can we just—"

"Baby!"

Fuck. His. Life.

Thank _Jesus_ for his ninja reflexes when he quickly puts his arms around Yamada and presses her petite body against him - practically _flushing_ them together. To be in this situation, Ray grimly thinks; Joyce would be laughing until her head's detached from her freaking body! Damn, thinking of his kid sister right now doesn't do him any solid _good_.

He puts on the smooth, no-guilt face he could gather on the moment without _dropping his balls_ as he meets Powell's annoying baby-ish eyes. "Sorry sweet chicks. Looks like my hands are full. Couldn't squeeze you in - she's pretty feisty, this one. _Possessive_, I'd like to say." He hugs Yamada closer and could feel the half-Asian squirms within his touch.

Powell pouts. "That's not fair!"

"Life isn't fair, good-lookin'. Probably it's best you'd walk away because I don't think I could restrain such... _creature_ for any longer," He, of course, directing the sentence right at the half-Asian in his grip. Probably not the best move considering his _life_ is on her hands. He could only pray to God she's just going with this - let her be saint for once, Ray prays.

Powell glares dagger at half-Asian, "You better watch out."

"_Excuse_ me," Yamada suddenly speak. Uh-oh. He's dead. Yup. No use. He might as well jump off a cliff or get himself electric-shocked. Or just _try_ to survive the night with Powell. He'd probably live to see the next dawn. If he's lucky enough. But with that lizard tongue of Powell's, ugh. "I don't know if you're blind or just _plain _stupid but obviously Be— Ray has chosen me. And if it hasn't occurred to you, I _never_ like to share."

...the fuck?

Ray's eyes bulge open at the half-Asian against him, her perfectly-trimmed, clean fingernails (unlike those of Powell's, with shit bright colors that'd make him feel _super_ high and _not in the good_ kind of way) on his chest and her cheeks on her shoulders, the top of her head barely touching his jaw. Did someone just abducted half-Asian or...

Yamada waves her hand, "So, scram, bitch."

Yup. Definitely real.

He even goes down to pinching her bare shoulders just to make sure. But then she gives him this death-glare and he knew he had to keep up with the act too. He turns to Powell, who looks like she's holding her breath until the end of the world, and shrugs his shoulder. "Perhaps some other time."

With that, the girl lets out a huff, spins her heels and walk away, leaving Ray to stand with half-Asian, overlooking her as she disappears through the crowd. Seconds later, he looks down to half-Asian, expecting the _terrorist_ to snark a comment and man-slaughter him right here and then. Instead, Yamada drops her shoulders, exhales a sigh and brushes a strain of dark hair from her face. She looks up at him, raise a brow and pushes him away by inches, "You owe me big time."

"I guess," Ray mumbles, still expecting some kind of explosion or just... _something_.

Shit, hell must be freezing over because half-Asian is being, actually, decent. He pokes her. "What's wrong with you?"

She spats his hand away. "Nothing," she starts to spin away. "I'm going home."

Okay. Maybe it's the glitter make-up Yamada has by her eyes or that violet-dress she's putting on, or probably a charm Powell has put him under, but Ray's hand goes over to reach Yamada's and has him holding his breath. Oh, hell. Ray licks his lips, anxious suddenly, "No. You're not."

"What," Yamada doesn't seem to understand his actions. Neither does he. "What are you on about right now, Beech? I chase the girl away — what more could you need?"

"I may be a lot of things, Yamada but I'm not one to back out from my words." He splutters the words out, almost too carefully. "I'm dancing. With you."

Half-Asian stares him for the next three seconds before she drops her gaze and shakes her head, "Are you high?"

"Fuck it, Yamada! Just have this dance with me and we can resume on murdering each other with threats and even _fucking_ _knives_, if it'll make you happy." He tugs on her hand, pulling her towards him. "We already kinda wasted a minute through the song, it won't be long until it comes to the end anyways."

"_Fine_. But after this," she glares at him. "Not a word."

"Not that it'll make it out from my throat anyway."

Yamada doesn't respond - instead takes a step closer into his personal space. For just that damn second, Ray almost pushes her away —because he'd be _shitload_ crazy to let _Bruce Lee_ comes in within twenty-inch of radius. But he realizes part of her movement was ejected when he tugged her closer a second before and then his brain went, "This is a _mutual_ thing (surprisingly) you agreed with the Karate Kid's goddaughter, so better suck it up Ray."

Ray inhales some oxygen before he finally _succumbs_ himself into the situation, taking Yamada _gently_ in his grip which is terrifyingly strange because he and Asian Witch? Yeah, they don't _do_ civil, let alone gentle.

This situation is so fucked-up, he couldn't even... _sigh_.

"..._The world is coming down on me and I can't find a reason to be loved_..."

Damn, this song couldn't get anymore awkward.

He turns a degree up to shot a glare at Banjaree— not that _Kareena Kapoor_ is looking at him anyway— just to silently curse her of her _freakishly awkward_ song to sing at Senior Prom. Seriously, out of so goddamn many!

He moves his attention back to the swaying of his bodies against Asian gnome — not that Yamada is _that_ short. It's just that, she's _really_ small in size and she's just horseshit full of luck she's friend with Banjaree, because _Miss Indian_ over there is pretty short herself. But let's not look at sizes here; half-Asian might be all gnome-like, but she could annoyed him to the _after_ life - not that he wouldn't be gladly returning the favor. It certainly is not a secret that if it's anyone that could irritate Yamada, it would (without a single breath of question) be him.

"..._You put your arms around me, and I believe that it's easier for you to let me go_..."

Man, if someone wouldn't start yapping about something — anything, really — things are going to get from _just_ awkward to _hella _awkward.

As if she could read minds, half-Asian clears her throat. "So, Angel huh?"

"I was high when I agreed to take her to prom." Well, no. Not exactly. Not at all. He was perfectly in his state of mind when the God-Awful-Broken-Down version of _Annie the Musical_ came pouting her red lips and begging for him to say yes, because well, according to her, she had it all planned out; her dress and make-ups and shits and he doesn't even bother to buy her the damn corsage thing because she had it all ordered up — and let's make it clear in head that she got this whole thing set up _before_ he even said yes. So yeah, that definitely showed how shitload of craziness she's carrying around, all pinned-up tightly in her philosophy of mind, rejecting any ounce of intelligence that tried to sneak in.

Yamada gives him this narrowed-eyes look that makes him stares at her, and then she drawls out. "Sure you were."

He ignores her statement, "Look, the girl's a good company and all - but I just, if I spend another _five-point-three_ seconds hearing her snotting out her laughter, I'd check myself in a mental institution and that will lead to my big sister's rage and my younger sister's amusement because she could have my bedroom and I'd never give the little brat the satisfactions. She goes nut when she holds power, you know."

"Huh," half-Asian clicks her tongue. "Like sister, like brother."

Well, that only results in him gritting his teeth down before he could chew off Ju-on's nose off. Yamada cracks a light smirk, her eyes glinting as his get darker. He looks away before his mind could motion into one-thousand-and-one ways of killing someone with a handkerchief and catches sight of Delgado, staring at Minnie Gorilla and him with eyes wide fill with fear, someone might mistaken him for seeing a ghost. Instead of ghosts of course, he might be witnessing a _horror_ movie in action, 3D, _live_.

Ray smirks, "Heads up. Delgado's watching. Thought I saw him taking a leak in his pants at the sight of you latching onto me."

"I'm not _latching_ onto you, stupid." Then, she groans. "God, they're going to bombard me with a millions of questions—"

"Can you tell them we have sex and totally record their expressions on tape? I think Banjaree might lose an eye, or two, or the whole package of her head if she heard that one." He snickers.

"You're unbelievable," she rolls her eyes.

"But totally hot beyond your wildest imagination, baby."

"..._I tried my best to never let you in to see the truth, and I've never opened up_..."

"And _this_ is what the girls are worshiping nowadays, huh?"

"Don't be like that, munchkin. Jealous doesn't suit you. Can't help it if the girls are throwing themselves at The Beech Express."

"Tell me something, hot-shot." Yamada starts, "how does it feel like, having all those girls _throwing_ themselves at you, as you proclaimed they do, and still, you wound up here, dancing your last dance at Senior Prom, with _me_?"

Ray is sure it's supposed to be an insult, but hey, the charms kick in and before he could even register what-the-fuck is going _down_, there is no amount of spaces for air to pass through in between their bodies when his arms around her tightens, his nose barely touching her face, his lips gracing her brows — and yeah, because he _is_ Ray Beech by the end of the night, he _smirks_. "Well I don't know about you, baby— but I don't think I mind it _that_ much."

"..._I hope that you see right through my walls - I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling_..."

And truth be told? He doesn't.

Yamada isn't like any other chick. She just isn't. The girl has a loud mouth and _opinions_ and sometimes could drive him to the _utmost of walls_, but she's bold and she just doesn't roll with anything that doesn't suit her. And yeah, she hates him - and don't get him wrong, he's sharing the feeling all the same - and maybe that's what's most appealing of her. Sure, there must be tons of women who doesn't prefer his guts; but half-Asian... there is just something he couldn't put his finger on, and when they're not slaying each other with words — kinda, like, _now_ — he just wants to lean in and kiss her.

Like, super rough. Just pushes her to the wall, has her legs wrap around his body and her fingers through his hair and just kisses her until she faints or something.

And then, he holds up because — WHAT IN THE ACTUAL _FUCK_ DID HE JUST THOUGHT OF?!

Man, those glittery make-up of hers must be getting to his head because Ray Beech does not think of that of his worst enemy. He just shouldn't. Couldn't. Can't. Fucking _won't_.

"..._I'll never let a love get so close - You put your arms around me and I'm home_..."

"Dude—" Yamada gives a little pressure as she pushes her hand against his chest, but before she could persuade on continuing her words, he takes a step back, lets go of her (because of the shitty song with arms and feelings and houses and stuff he just can't handle on the moment), licks his lips and nods.

"Well, at least it has come to my acknowledgment that even a part Gorilla, Rhino and _Orangutan_ can dance if properly thought - that was nice." He comments, because _hella_ awkward doesn't even gonna cover it if he doesn't say his peace. Shit's going to get _super, mega, frickin'_ awkward. But he insults her, so he guesses it should restore whatever balance of the world he thought he'd threw out of the heap.

She rolls her eyes in annoyance. "Douche."

Ray shrugs his shoulder, feeling the tired limbs on his body and turns around, avoiding any wars that would have erupted if he stays a _millisecond_ longer. He guesses he should be complaining because things don't appear as if he would be in a threesome anytime soon, or the prom was a total Titanic-wreck, but all he could think of as he calls up his older sister for a ride home (he and Powell came in a rented limo) is:

Fucking _Skooter_ shouldn't legit leave Yamada for his dying Nana. Jacked-up idiot.

Damn, did the numbskull missed _a lot_.

(And probably if the moron hadn't, Ray wouldn't be staring at the violet glitter stuck to his palm. Jesus, Joyce is going to tease him _so_ hard).

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**Not my best, but I tried. Reviews are appreciated. Thanks, seriously. It was fun writing this**.


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